


Danger Zone

by The_lazy_eye



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Richie, Construction Worker AU, It's Tops and Tractors Part Two - Construction Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Richie gets fucked up against a forklift, Shameless Smut, Top Eddie, that's it guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 11:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20656343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_lazy_eye/pseuds/The_lazy_eye
Summary: “Never pegged you for an over achiever, Tozier,” Eddie says. He looks mildly amused in the way he says it – like some high school bully who’s found the perfect insult. Unlucky for him, Richie’s just as quick with his responses.“Nah, but you could peg me for something else if you want.”Eddie’s tightens his hold and he steps forward, hips almost flush with Richie’s ass, “Yeah, Tozier? You sure you want to make a promise like that?”





	Danger Zone

There’s no clear-cut reason why Richie got into this line of work. You could say it was the high pay, the pension, the benefits, the physical work, sweaty, rippled men. Any of them made sense, really. They were all pros and all the things he had to remind himself of when he punched in and out on really bad weeks. 

Like this one. This was a really bad week. 

Being a construction worker was dangerous work. Every second of every day could be your last if you weren’t careful. One look at Richie, one might think he wouldn’t last a single day before being crushed by a wayward piece of cement. No one would have guessed that he’d been here for years. Long enough to be able to judge the distance from one two by four to the next just by glancing at it. Long enough to be able to tell the time of day by the sun's position in the sky, no matter the month. 

He might have a motor mouth and a crude sense of humor and trip over his own two feet from time to time, but he was just as jacked as anyone else. Just as seasoned and strong and aware of what the fuck was going on. 

Richie has been on his own since he was basically eighteen. The whole college thing was never on his radar. There was a brief moment sophomore year where he had everyone, including himself, convinced he had a one-way ticket to UCLA. Turns out that was just a pipe dream; Richie may have been top in his class but there was something so heavily unappealing about chasing some schematic academic lifestyle. He wanted to get his feet wet, experience the world as he knew it. He couldn’t do that tied down to some hippie university in the west. So, he applied to any job that got him out of Derry. The construction job in Bangor was the only one who didn’t laugh right in his face. The hiring manager looked him up and down, really sized him up for a moment, and said _ you’ll do. _

That was ten years ago. The rest is history. 

Since then Richie has worked his way up and down the east coast. He can’t begin to count the number of prepaid hotel rooms he’s slept in, the amount of city skylines he’s seen from the top of a half-finished project, or the amount of times he almost had his head taken off by something sailing through the air. He worked his way up the food chain, building his skills and strengths and gaining the respect of the guys on his crews. 

Richie didn’t mind the life he had. He worked odd jobs in small towns and big cities, earning enough to pay for a reasonable apartment back where he’d settled his roots. He lived comfortably, and every new place he got to explore was a chance for him to explore himself, too. 

He gave his first blowjob in Bangor. Got his first one in Hartford. Got his dick wet in Philly and ate some ass in Manhattan. Nameless faces in broken cities that left Richie feeling more and more sure of himself. He went from a scared, closeted eighteen-year-old to someone who could cat call with the boys and to the boys. 

Not that he cat called often. That was a Young Richie habit, driven by his insatiable desire to fit in. Now-a-days he lingers by the fence and pets dogs on their way by. He smiles at pretty girls and takes one home every now and then. 

“How do you do it, Tozier?” The other guys ask. 

“Well, for starters I’m not a disgusting asshole,” he says. 

Everyone laughs and Richie has no clue if they realize he’s serious. He is, but oh well. 

Suffice to say, Richie is happy most of the time. This week, unfortunately, is not most of the time. This week is that two percent chance of thunderstorms and hell breaking through the Earth’s crust to consume them all. 

Stop dragging your feet, Satan, and just get it over with already. Fuck, man.

Richie has probably worked the better part of sixty hours this week. Honestly, he’s not keeping track anymore but it has to be something like that. He’s clocked in early and clocked out late every day, most of the time pulling a double shift out of his ass and then dragging himself home for a couple hours of sleep. 

Every time he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he looks like utter shit. Bags under his eyes, pale complexion, greasy hair. It’s a mess. He can feel the tension lining his shoulder blades and bleeding into the tendons in his neck. Every time he moves it feels like someone is grinding sandpaper into in muscles. 

There’s no stopping, though. Not with the bump to the grind. 

One of his buddies got injured on Monday. He’s out for two weeks. Stack that one top of the guy who got injured _ last _week and now they’re short forty hours of labor. Everyone’s feeling the burn from it. They don’t have anyone lined up to replace them, so it’s do or do, basically. 

They’re working on some kind of building and they’re on the interior portion of it now. Richie finds himself thankful for the shade. They’ve all gone a constant sunburn on their necks and shoulders. It brings their deep tans even deeper. 

Well, not Richie’s tan. Richie doesn’t tan. He just burns. There’s a permanent shirt tied around the top of his head to keep the back of his neck sheltered. Very rarely does he opt for no shirt, replying on his sleeves to protect his shoulders. This isn’t his first rodeo, he’s got the tips and tricks down. 

Not everyone needs tricks the way Richie does. Take Eddie for instance. Eddie is the type of man who has a permanent olive tone painted over his body. Richie isn’t sure if he’s as dark under his tank, where the skin never reaches the sun, but he’d love to find out. 

Eddie and Richie have been working on the same team on and off for years now. Richie can remember the first time he saw Eddie – both twenty-three trying to find their way in this line of work. Richie watched him walk onto the site, all newborn confidence and sly smiles. As much as he could understand it, it pissed him off.

Who does he think he is, charging in here like top fucking dog? He had no right. It took Richie a little while to learn that Eddie wasn’t acting like a top dog, he just was one. It was as natural as the sun and rain. Eddie had an easy command about him and he could take handle of almost any situation. By the end of that job, he had everyone eating out of the palm of his hand. Richie included. 

Three years later they’ve done a total of five jobs together. They don’t really interact, but Richie shamelessly stares at him. He watches the muscles on Eddie’s back move as he lifts. He watches way his chestnut hair, brighter in the sunlight, shines like fire. He watches the way the curve of his ass clings to whatever bottoms he wearing. _ Fuck _, he has a nice ass. 

Richie has caught Eddie staring at him a few times, too. He’s always quick to look away, unlike Richie. Any time Eddie has caught Richie he just leveled him with the best look he could. Eddie always turned away first. It was like a game of gay chicken. 

Richie was winning, obviously.

It’s hard to think about any of that now, though. The sun has long been set, every inch of Richie’s body is screaming at him, and he’s is the last person at the site. The only reason he’s still here is because he wants to get the supplies organized for tomorrow. Everyone’s coming in early again and if they get off to a smooth start, maybe they can get out of here a little earlier and go to the bar down the road. The team needs it, a little boost of morale. 

Lord knows Richie needs it, too. He needs fucking something. 

He’s got several planks of wood in his arms when he hears a scuffle coming from the other side of the room. He doesn’t bother to look, not really concerned with the sound. He just moves his wood from one pile to another, sorting it by size and weight and whatever else he thinks might be useful. The tools are already away and the heavy machinery is parked. All he has to do is sort out what they need. 

Richie practically bends himself in half, looking down at the piles of wood and making sure their orderly and secure. He’s about ready to head out for the night when he hears a low whistle from behind. It startles him enough for him to swing up and around, nearly falling over as he tries to straighten out his posture. 

Standing not too far away is one Eddie Kaspbrak. He’s got his arms crossed and he looks just as smug as he does on the job. Eddie is a natural born leader and a natural born jackass. Something Richie is, _ unfortunately _, extremely attracted to. 

There’s a look on Eddie’s face that Richie knows all too well. There’s a darkness in his eyes and a fire in his smile. Richie knows he’s got a nice ass and he just had it on display for Eddie. The only thing he doesn’t know is how long Eddie was standing there for, or how long he plans on staying. 

They look at each other for a moment, Richie leveling Eddie with the best nonchalant shrug he can and Eddie continuing to drag his eyes over Richie. 

“Well, well, well,” Eddie’s voice echoes across the space between them, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing down here in the dark, all by yourself?” His voice is low, too, dripping with something that hangs unsaid. Hangs low and heavy in the ways Richie wants something _ else _to hang low and heavy.

“You know,” Richie answers, playing along with the game that Eddie is creating, “Just wanted to come down and get a head start on tomorrow’s _ load _. Seems I’m in over my head, though. I could use a hand.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything. His eyes rake over Richie’s body one more time and Richie decides that this is it, if anything is going to happen between them it’s now. Years of tension between the two of them is finally coming to a head. There’s something tangible this time, something that says if it doesn’t happen now, it won’t happen at all. 

Richie swings his hips as he turns back around, bending slowly to grab uselessly at the wood. He doesn’t need to move it, not really, so he just adjusts the pile as it is, moving picking a plank up, putting it back down, and making sure it’s sitting _ just right _on top of the other pieces. He even makes a show of swaying his hips gently, almost dismissively, in Eddie’s direction. 

After a few seconds, Richie can begin to feel the heat burning in his face. There was no sound from behind him, no indication that Eddie was even still standing there. The embarrassment of his position and the shame of possibly being abandoned began to well up inside of him, burning in his chest and face. 

Just as Richie started to stand, ready to cut his losses, he felt hands settle on his hips. They gripped him tight, holding him in his bent over position. 

“Never pegged you for an overachiever, Tozier,” Eddie says. He looks mildly amused in the way he says it – like some high school bully who’s found the perfect insult. Unlucky for him, Richie’s just as quick with his responses. 

“Nah, but you could peg me for something else if you want.”

Eddie’s tightens his hold and he steps forward, hips almost flush with Richie’s ass, “Yeah, Tozier? You sure you want to make a promise like that?”

“Oh, honey,” Richie drawls out, letting an absolutely awful southern accent seep into his voice, “I ain’t the type of dame who ever, _ ever _goes back on his word.”

Without warning, Eddie reaches down and threads his fingers through the curls of Richie’s hair. His grip is rough and the force of it sends shocks of pleasure down Richie’s spine, straight into his dick. He uses his purchase to pull Richie up, hand on his hip pushing him forward. Together, they walk toward the forklift a few feet away. Eddie spins him around once they get there and pushes Richie’s back against the machinery. 

“I know what you want, Richie,” He says, pressing his lips to the junction of Richie’s neck and shoulder. He bites down hard, teeth scraping over flesh and drawing blood to the surface before continuing. “I see the way you look at me.”

Richie takes advantage of their new position to run his hands up Eddie’s sides and under his shirt, feeling the soft heat of his skin for the first time. A gentle moan falls out of his lips, either from the love bites or the contact or Eddie’s words. He doesn’t think too much about it, instead he lets himself get lost in the sensation of Eddie _ finally _pressed up against him.

“All day long you show yourself off. No shirt, no decency, not a care in the fucking world.” Eddie bites down again, this time of Richie’s collarbone. He digs in, sucking roughly at the thin skin and drawing yet another moan from the back of Richie’s throat. “You’re so shameless when you stare at me. I bet you didn’t even notice me staring back.”

“Bold assumption there, Eds,” Richie says, finally finding his words. His hands are now tangled in the soft curls on Eddie’s head while Eddie’s thigh snakes between Richie’s own. They didn’t have much of a rhythm set yet but the pressure felt unreal. It turned his semi into a rock solid, aching erection in under two minutes. “I notice everything.”

“Oh, yeah? Tell me.”

“I notice the way you can’t seem to get enough attention,” Richie starts. Eddie’s hips move at that, subtle but electrifying. “I bet you love it. Such a slut for attention. Is that what you’re doing down here? Getting some more attention? Bet it’s been eating you alive, not having me all these years.”

“You wish,” Eddie says but it’s strained, like he’s biting something from deep in his throat. 

Richie presses on, on hand coming down to squeeze at Eddie’s ass over his jeans, fingers kneading in the plush flesh that he’s always dreamed of getting his hands on. “This is a wet dream come true for you, isn’t it? Getting your hands all on this body.”

“Sounds like someone’s projecting.” Eddie punctuates his sentence by reaching down and starting at Richie’s belt. It comes undone in his hands easy enough and he yanks it free, tossing it to the other side of the room. The metal from the buckle clangs on the concrete. “I know you’ve wanted me since New York. Want to get fucked, Richie? Yeah? Want to feel me so far up your ass you can taste me?”

Richie doesn’t have time to reply because suddenly Eddie’s kissing him, swallowing up anything he could have said in retaliation. His tongue presses into Richie’s mouth, takes over and takes control and Richie can’t find it in himself to mind. The feeling of Eddie all over him is intoxicating. 

Eddie doesn’t like to waste time, apparently, because he drops to his knees without so much as a warning. He pulls Richie’s jeans own with him, leaning Richie in boxers and a tank top as Eddie wets his lips. 

“God, you’re so hot,” Richie says, running a hand through Eddie’s hair and down the back of his neck.

Eddie looks up at him, brown eyes catching in the dim lighting, and says, “I know,” before he takes Richie out of his jeans and swallows him halfway. 

“Holy fuck.” The back of Richie’s head hits the forklift and his mouth drops open at the sensation. He can’t stop the way his hips twitch forward into the wet heat of Eddie’s mouth, forcing him to take just a little bit more of Richie’s length down his throat. Eddie’s eyes lock onto Richie’s, almost in a challenging way, before he pulls off and licks a long, slow strip up the underside of Richie’s cock. 

“You like my mouth?” He asks, voice high and innocent as his eyes bat twice. Richie can only nod before Eddie holds the tip close to his lips, tongue darting out to kitten lick at the slit. The sensation drives Richie insane, makes him light in the head. Each connection of Eddie’s tongue to his cock causes a bolt of lightning through his entire body. 

Then, Eddie is taking him back into his mouth, down and down and down until his nose buries in the tufts of hair on Richie’s lower abdomen. His throat constricts around Richie’s cock in pulses as he swallows, driving Richie’s head harder against the frame of the forklift. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eds,” Richie chokes out. Eddie holds himself down until tears begin to well up in the corners of his eyes. He looks so pretty like this, face flushed borderline crying with Richie’s cock shoved all the way down his throat. His hips buck once, twice, before he grips Eddie’s hair and pulls him off. Eddie comes off with a wet _ pop _and he takes one hard gasp for air. 

“Cum on my chest and call me a toaster strudel,” Richie says, catching his breath. “I thought I was gonna shoot my load.” 

“You’re so easy,” Eddie teases. He gives Richie’s length one more lick before he stands back up, hands running up Richie’s chest and bringing his shirt up over his head. “Turn around.”

Richie doesn’t need to be told twice, he flips his position and steadies his hands on the cushion of the driver’s seat, “Who said you’d be the one to top?”

“You said I could peg you,” Eddie answers quickly and Richie laughs again. He looks over his shoulder and watches as Eddie smiles and runs his hands up the curve of Richie’s ass. He spreads Richie apart and groans, “Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

Then, Richie watches as Eddie fishes out a small bottle of lube from his pocket. He pops the cap off and squirts some into his hand, smearing it between his fingers. 

“Got a mouth on you, don't cha?” Richie asks.

Eddie just says, “Thought I already proved that,” before pressing a slick finger inside. He moves slow, giving Richie time to adjust to the sudden intrusion before setting a steady rhythm. 

It’s fucking good. Richie can feel every inch of Eddie’s finger in him and he groans in time with Eddie’s thrusts. It only takes him a few seconds before he’s pushing back, urging Eddie for more. Eddie complies, stretching him out with the addition of a second finger and setting a harder pace. It’s enough for Richie to fall onto his elbows. The tacky feeling of his skin catches on the leather seat and it burns, but the feeling only adds to the pleasure shooting through his body. When he adds a third, he crooks his fingers and fucks into Richie relentlessly.

Eddie doesn’t have the best accuracy, but what he lacks there he makes up for with enthusiasm. There’s no denying it feels good, especially judging by the noises falling from Richie’s lips. He scissors his fingers, leaning in to press kisses along the clef of Richie’s ass, “Are you ready baby?”

“Give it to me, stud,” Richie says, looking back over his shoulder again, watching as Eddie shucks his shirt off and pulls a condom out before shimmying out of his own jeans. 

“You came prepared.”

“I’m a man who knows what I want,” Eddie shrugs as he rolls the condom on and lines up. 

Richie takes one last chance for a one liner and says, “Could’ve fooled me with all that hesitation over the years.”

“Does this look like hesitation?” Eddie asks and then suddenly he’s pushing in. Richie’s breath catches in his throat and he grips the seat. Slowly, Eddie fills him up inch by inch. It’s endless, thick and long in all the right places. Fuck, Richie can’t remember the last time he felt so stretched. 

Once he’s buried to the hilt, Eddie pauses. He whispers small praise into the small of Richie’s back and soothes his hands up and down his spine. God, he feels so good. It lights every nerve ending that Richie has on fire and when Eddie starts to pull out Richie has to brace himself for the shockwaves. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name” Eddie says and then he’s slamming back in, setting a rough pace. The sound of skin on skin echoes throughout the concrete room and mixes with the sounds of Richie’s moans and Eddie’s harsh breaths. “God, wanted you for so long, couldn’t stand to see you walk around the site with your low ride jeans, that ass on display for everyone to see.”

Richie’s arms give out from the force of Eddie’s thrusts and then he’s suddenly face first on the leather. If this were a bed, Eddie would be rocking the frame. Hell, maybe he’d even break the frame at this rate. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Richie chants in time with the thrusts. Each one grazes against his prostate and makes his see stars. His entire vision starts to blur around the edges and several well times thrusts from Eddie has tears spilling over the rims of his eyes. “Eddie, Eddie, _ Eddie.” _

“Yeah, say my name, baby. Just like that.” Eddie brings a hand down on Richie’s ass, a jolt of pain mixed with indescribable heat going straight to Richie’s dick. Eddie then squeezes Richie’s ass, spreading him apart so the stretch of his cock sliding in and out burns even more. “Tell me how good it feels. Tell me how good I’m fucking you.”

“It feels so good,” Richie says, gasping for air around his own moans. “It feels so good, please don’t stop.”

Richie can feel a coil tightening in the base of his stomach but he knows so long as his cock hangs neglected in front of him he won’t cum. Even with how close he was before, he needs something more to push him over the edge. 

“Keep going,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, hips slowing down to a merciless grind. 

“It feels so good, Eds,” Richie whines, pressing his hips back to chase the sudden loss of friction. “Please – oh fuck,” Eddie’s cock drags against his prostate before it slowly pulls out, leaving just tip inside. “Eddie, please.”

“What do you want, baby?” Eddie asks, soothing his hands over Richie’s lower back. 

“You, I want you – fuck – _ please _.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I want your cock, please give me your cock. Don’t stop until you’ve fucked me _ raw _.”

Eddie’s hips snap back in, the force of it punching a load moan out of Richie. This time, he doesn’t stop. He keeps a staggeringly rough pace, his own moans drifting high into the air above them. 

“Richie,” He says, voice back in that breathy high pitch. Eddie’s drapes himself over Richie’s back, then, snaking a hand underneath him and gripping the base of Richie’s cock roughly. “You wanna cum, Richie? Yeah? You wanna cum with me inside you?”

Richie just nods, unable to speak anymore, voice completely raw with noises still being dragged out of him. Eddie’s hand matches his own quick thrusts and it doesn’t take long before Richie is seeing white, entire body drawing taut as he cums all over Eddie’s fist and the side of the forklift. 

Eddie fucks him through it, teeth finding his shoulder as his thrusts become erratic until he, too, is coming. Richie can feel him emptying into the condom, pulse by pulse until there’s nothing left. 

When Eddie pulls out, slow and gentle, Richie is left with achingly empty. He falls to his knees, no longer able to support his position. His entire body screams with relief and desperation for a nap, so he stays bent over the forklift for a few more moments while he listens to Eddie gather various pieces of clothing from the floor. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, softly running a hand up Richie’s back. The contact feels nice and Richie yearns for more of it. “You okay?”

Richie hums in affirmation, eyes opening to see Eddie kneeling beside him clutching his shirt and jeans. Eddie’s already dressed, so he helps Richie into his clothes. 

They’re both left standing there in the aftermath, neither quite sure what to say. The fire from Eddie’s eyes is mostly gone and Richie can’t tell if he looks tired or embarrassed.

“Listen –” Richie starts but he’s cut off quickly. 

“Hey, do you wanna come back to my room?”

Well. That isn’t what he was expecting. 

It takes him a second to figure out how to respond, but eventually he nods, a sleepy smile taking over his features. “Yeah, we can order take-out and watch something.”

Eddie smiles back, tired in the afterglow but so, so satisfied. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very very very very very very very late birthday gift for Richttps / richardtoz.tumblr.com. Kimmi is the biggest bottom Richie stan I've ever met and I dedicate every single bottom Richie I've ever wrote to her
> 
> I've always wanted to write another crack smut fic that mirrored of tops and tractors (because in a weird way that's the fic I'm known for) so here we are. Bottom Richie Fork Life Construction Worker Top Hat Danger Zone, or the fic in which Richie and Eddie violate so many safety protocols just to dick down. 
> 
> This was a lot of fun to write, I hope you guys have just as much fun reading it. 
> 
> Come chat w/ me at reddie-for-anything.tumblr.com!


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